


Delicious Antagonism

by CobaltStargazer



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Antagonistic Relaltionship, F/F, Hate Sex, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 10:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1978620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CobaltStargazer/pseuds/CobaltStargazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a reason Erin picked Emily to be her mole. She just didn't expect what would come of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delicious Antagonism

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching the episode where Strauss interrogates the team after George Foyet's death, and Prentiss' tude made me think about the possibilities.

_]Ma'am_ , for God's sake. Not Chief Strauss, but 'Ma'am'. And in that _]tone_.

There had been a reason that Erin had chosen Emily Prentiss after that business with Agent Greenaway. As a more seasoned member of the Bureau, Prentiss seemed less likely to go off-script, as it were, less likely to make trouble. That she was the daughter of a prominent ambassador was just icing on the cake. She was intelligent and ambitious, but not _too_ ambitious. The perfect mole.

Or so she'd thought.

Then Emily had defied her by siding with Aaron Hotchner and refusing to inform on the members of the BAU. Refused to follow orders. Told Erin to do her worst, but that she wasn't going to play along.

Brat. _Bitch_.

With no recourse, the blonde had backed off. If she tried to fire Prentiss, or even get her transferred, Hotchner would wonder why. She couldn't get rid of _him_ either, although God knew she'd tried. She used to only have one problem. Now she had two.

Erin was on her way into work one morning when she bumped into Prentiss, and the two of them ended up sharing an elevator. The brunette stared straight ahead. The blonde watched the numbers on the floor indicator light up and then go dark. 

"I don't appreciate being thwarted."

"I don't appreciate being bullied."

Emily surprised herself by replying, and she set her back molars together to prevent more words from escaping from her mouth. That was what a woman like this lived for, to prod a reaction out of you. It made you an easier target. Still, she'd always been the argumentative sort. Why should this be any different?

The woman next to her snorted under her breath. The profiler kept her eyes on the elevator doors. The very idea of the Ice Bitch being amused by something was preposterous to her, because that would mean she had a sense of humor. Which would mean she was actually human.

Her cell phone buzzed just as the doors opened, and she checked the text as she stepped out of the elevator. "Have a good day, Ma'am."

" _Stop_ calling me that, Agent Prentiss."

Emily turned, her eyebrows lifting. She made eye contact with Strauss, and her mouth twisted into something that only resembled a smile on the surface. Her phone buzzed again. "You'd like what else I want to call you even less, so let's stick to 'Ma'am', all right?"

The scorn in the brunette's voice left Erin so startled that the doors nearly closed, and she put her hand out and held them open as Prentiss disappeared into the bullpen. Inside her bra, her nipples had hardened. No one on the job had _ever_ talked to her like that, not even Alex. And she hated it, but it was also kind of a turn-on. She marched into her office and shut the door behind her.

Emily surfed on the high she'd gotten from back-talking Strauss for several days, but she kept it to herself. The others might have been amused, but Hotch wouldn't have approved, his own rocky relationship with the Chief aside. It was one thing to stick your hand in the lion's mouth. She wasn't about to stick her whole head in there. Still, it _did_ give her a shivery feeling when she replayed the look on Strauss' face.

It went on like that for a few weeks. Quietly, under wraps, out of sight of the others. They'd take the elevator together in the mornings, and sometimes at night when they left the building to go their separate ways. Erin would make a caustic remark, and Emily would jab back at her while they avoided looking at each other. They both resented the interaction even as they savored it. It was almost like flirting. Almost.

One night after a particularly grueling case, Emily was at her desk struggling through her paperwork. Everyone had gone home, even Hotch. There was a half-full mug of coffee near her right hand, but it wasn't helping much. She wanted to go home and sleep in her own bed with Sergio curled up on the windowsill. She yawned, covered her mouth impatiently. The sound of footsteps on the stairs leading to the upper level distracted her, and she looked up.

"You're still here? I'm surprised."

Erin had been on her way out, but spotting Prentiss at her desk had made her pause. The team being in the field meant the two of them hadn't had one of their elevator 'chats' for a few days, and while she wouldn't have admitted it, she had missed the sparring. It _was_ possible to hate someone and still want to interact, no matter how reluctantly.

"I'm almost out the door. Just as soon as I finish this useless report."

The brunette had immediately returned her attention to her paperwork when she realized who it was, but some of the weariness had been replaced by something she refused to put a name to. She did not like Erin Strauss. They'd established that. But even hate could be complex.

The older woman approached the desk, looking at the top of that dark head, and again she was reminded of Alex. Aloof, distant Alex, who was neither aloof nor distant once she took her clothes off. But that was over now, and she didn't even _like_ Emily, who'd dared to look her in the eye and defy her. Upstart. Still, the gall of it was a little sexy.

"Is there something you want, Ma'am?"

"You're going to tell me you don't know, Agent Prentiss? I thought you had me all figured out."

Emily lifted her head so fast that Erin was a little startled, and the combative, mulish expression made the blonde's nipples tighten as they looked at each other. The younger woman's chair creaked as she got up, and she put both hands on the small of her back and stretched. She'd taken her shoes off once she'd sat down, and her sock-clad feet made no noise on the linoleum floor.

They were almost the same height, and Erin held her ground as Prentiss closed the distance. She was Erin Strauss, and she did not cower. 

"Maybe I _do_ know what you want." And really, thank fuck she had said something, because the brunette probably wouldn't have. The older woman was still wearing her tailored jacket over her crisp white blouse, and Emily cupped a breast through two layers of fabric. Her thumb rolled over the hard peak of a nipple, and she watched the blonde's pupils dilate as her breathing quickened.

"Yeah, maybe I do." 

They didn't talk as they went upstairs, and Erin locked the door to her office behind them. She turned around, and Emily was _right there_ in her face, where she'd been almost from the moment she'd declined to ferret out information that would get Aaron Hotchner out of her hair. 

That first kiss was hungry, almost bruising,, and Erin's hands found purchase on Emily's ass even as she sucked on her tongue. The two of them nearly wrestled away from the door, and after jockeying for dominance they ended up on the couch. The brunette arched her neck, and the older woman bit her shoulder, then the softer flesh of her throat. Fingers were tangled into her hair, tugging sharply. 

"Fuck me." 

"I'd love to." 

The clothes gradually began to come off, delayed by the kissing-nipping-biting-licking. Because they were still antagonizing each other. Prentiss' bra was black, a sharp contrast to her pale skin. There was a reddish mark near the hollow of her throat. Thank God Hotch had given them all the day off tomorrow, so it would have time to fade. He'd never understand this. _She_ didn't even understand it. 

Strauss had great legs, though. That she understood. 

Emily pushed the blonde onto her back, and one hand skated up the inside of her thigh. Erin considered pushing her off, and then the younger woman's mouth crashed against hers again and her thoughts scattered like leaves in a strong wind. Why was it always _so_ much better with women? 

Blonde pubic hair parted as the profiler opened the other woman up with her fingers. If anyone had told her six months ago she'd have her hand between Strauss' legs one night after work, she'd have laughed in their faces. What was even more insane was that she wanted to put her _head_ between her legs too. Just to see if she tasted as good as she looked. 

"I hate you." Erin said it through clenched teeth, trying to lift her hips towards those maddening fingers. 

That made Emily feel better, put the world back on its axis. "I hate you too," she said, relieved 

_The couch was leather, and it creaked when Strauss arched into her hand. She fucked her hard and steady, and the other woman's heels dug into the cushion for traction. When the fingers inside her twisted to hit a different spot, Erin let out a stifled moan. Emily's other hand touched her breasts, pinched one nipple. The next noise was louder._

"You've done this before." It was almost an accusation. 

"I don't fuck and tell," Emily shot back. 

"You'd damned well better not." 

The brunette wanted to shut her up, so she kissed her hard. She'd found the rhythm the other woman liked, and she was wondering about reciprocity. Would Strauss have the nerve to touch her? 

Erin was getting close, her inner muscles tightening. A light sheen of perspiration had broken out on her breasts and stomach. Prentiss shifted, dipped her head. She fastened her lips around her aching clit even as she continued to pump in and out of her. The blonde couldn't help the noise she made, a long low moan that rolled out of her as she slipped over the edge into orgasm. 

Emily felt her come, clenching around her fingers as the slickness increased, and her tongue lashed over the sensitive bundle of nerves as her fingers twisted and turned. The moan turned into a cry, and Erin had her fingers tangled into dark hair as she shivered and shuddered her way into the aftershocks. 

When it was finally over, the blonde lay spent, her legs splayed. Emily studied her. This changed nothing. Sex was just sex, and while it was gratifying to know that she could make Strauss come, it was probably a one-off. She pulled her fingers out of the wet channel, cleaned them off. 

"Do you still hate me?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Erin had gathered herself after the invading fingers retreated, and one of her hands reached up and cupped the back of Prentiss' neck. She pulled the other woman's face down to hers, then kissed her long and slow on the mouth. Almost gentle. 

When she broke the contact, she smiled a little at the look on the brunette's face. "Don't worry. I'm not planning to send you flowers." 

Emily's expression blanked for a second, and then she snorted. "Good to know that things won't change. _Ma'am._ " 


End file.
